Fear
by LeaDepp
Summary: And I hate it. I hate that I love you. And it’s not like the fairy tales. It’s scary, messy and horrible. And why can’t I just hate you? This fiction is VERY dark and please take heed of the rating.
1. Fear

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at anything even resembling smut. Not strictly smut but it does get a bit ranch at one stage. Its very dark. even for me. The song at the end are 'Even When I'm Sleeping' by a kick Aussie band Leonardo's Bride. Read, enjoy but most importantly review.  
  
I gently step into the room located high in the west tower. I knew I would find Harry here. I always do. It was his place of solitude, where he went when he wanted peace and where I knew to find him. I gently push the door closed behind me causing the latch to click shut.  
  
I stand there a second surveying Harry sitting on the windowsill leaning back into the wall with one leg bent the other dangling down beside the wall. His hand moves to his mouth and he sucks desperately on his cigarette. He leans his head back against the wall as he exhales, the smoke curling out the open window.  
  
Taking a short breath I walk over to him taking a seat at his foot on the windowsill. Wordlessly he offers me the pack of cigarettes and a lighter not looking at me as he does so. Instead he stares into the night as if hoping the ink sky could solve all his problems. Knowing he will talk when he is ready I accept his offer leaning back against the opposite ledge of the window so I can study his face.  
  
I take my first drag and am immediately pulled back to the first time I discovered Harry in this very room.  
  
Entering the room I was just looking for somewhere to escape to. Somewhere where no one would bother me. Where I could think on my own without a certain someone asking if I was okay every two seconds.  
  
Closing the door I was shocked to find Harry sitting on the window sill leg bent, the other dangling, his back against the wall, emerald eyes staring at me intently. He held no expression, his face eerily blank and closed off. His eyes however were pulling me, pleading with me not to leave.  
  
All my problems were immediately forgotten as something about Harry made me just know that I needed to stay there with him. Silently I entered the room and sat across from him leaning against the wall. It was only then I realised that he had a cigarette in his hand.  
  
Curious I leant over and took it from him. Cautiously I brought the stick to my mouth. I had smoked before but only Muggle cigarettes at parties with old school friends. This was the wizarding world; I had no idea what wizards may have laced them with. To my surprise it was clean. A perfectly normal Muggle cigarette.  
  
Noticing my inquisitive look Harry took the smoke back before he started to explain. Desperately he sucked on the end of the stick trying to delay the explanation, not wanting words to come from his mouth.  
  
"They're how I cope." Spoken like a true nicotine junkie.  
  
It still doesn't help me any with why he is sitting here smoking muggle cigarettes whilst I assumed the wizarding world had a lot more to offer; maybe ones that didn't cause cancer. "Its like -" he breaks off searching for the right words. "Sometimes I get just a bit overwhelmed."  
  
I nod waiting for him to go on.  
  
"Not just with Voldemort but the entire wizard bit. Everyone wanting a piece of me, expecting me to save their world. These," Harry held up the entire pack, "these they help me to escape. They make me feel more -" he broke off again. "Normal. They make me feel normal."  
  
I nod again knowing exactly what he meant. It was something from the Muggle world that we could do here as well. As much as I loved being a witch there were times I wish I could go back never knowing of this world.  
  
Go back and forget there was a crazy guy trying to kill us all, who had more power than Hitler and his entire Gestapo, combined. In the muggle world everything was so simple. Adults fought wars, mostly over religion and teenagers were never dragged into just because some chick made a prophecy before you were born.  
  
I take a cigarette from the packet and light it as we lapse into silence. We take comfort in each other's presence as we linger over our thoughts. Staring out into the darkness a strange feeling of peace comes over me.  
  
"You feel it too?" Harry asks me suddenly. I nod although I felt his comment was more of a statement than a question. Harry says nothing else and our silence continues comfortably.  
  
Time flicks by without my noticing. I stay lost in my thoughts. Feeling my legs start to cramp, I move to go stretch them when I turn to see Harry standing right next to me. My face now inches from his chest. I hadn't even noticed that he had moved. I stand and I stare straight ahead at his chin for a few seconds collecting myself.  
  
Leaning back I look up at him, he's looking down at me concern in his eyes, his face intense. Desperate to get away from his gaze which was causing my mind to race into unfamiliar places when associated with one of my best friends I slide off the sill squashing myself between Harry and the wall.  
  
Too late I realise I can't move left or right.  
  
I look up at Harry's face again and am surprised by the intensity of the emotion there. For once he was wearing his heart on his sleeve there just wasn't enough room for the writing to be decipherable; too many letters crammed into too small a place.  
  
His eyes seem to be a magnifying glass for my own pain. All the anxiousness, fear and uncertainty I'm feeling shine back at me threefold.  
  
Maybe that is what possessed me to do it.  
  
Tentatively I stand on tiptoe, lean forward and lightly brush my lips against his in what was supposed to be a friendly kiss of support. As soon as our lips touched I knew mine would linger there longer than necessary. I felt something unfamiliar flow through me.  
  
I feel Harry's arm come around my waist pulling me closer as the kiss begins to deepen. Gently his tongue brushes my lips seeking entrance as his hand traces circles on my waist. With a slight moan I allow him access and I feel a new rush of warmth as his tongue skilfully explores my mouth.  
  
It was the most intense kiss I have ever been a part of, yet feeling didn't come into it. Quite the opposite. We both wanted to shut everything out. Forget about the pain for a few moments. Shove it back into the deep recesses of our minds.  
  
That one kiss was not enough. We both wanted more. The kiss became harder more forceful, almost to the point of drawing blood. Harry's hands wove their way into my hair, gentle a thing of the past as we clung urgently to each other.  
  
Want soon turned into desperation. Anything to make the pain stop.  
  
I now had my back firmly against the wall, our mouths almost constantly joined saved for those times we became breathless. Harry's hand was travelling along the inside of my thigh and under my skirt with maddening laziness. There was no gentle about it just a teasing slothfulness.  
  
Desperate to keep the pain from my mind I grabbed for Harry's belt buckle having it untied within seconds. Forgetting all pretence Harry's hand made the remainder of the journey in record time.  
  
I gasped as Harry's fingers pushed my underwear aside and plunged into me. In our state of minds I looked upon this much foreplay as a bonus. I felt my temperature rise as his fingers worked expertly, my breaths slowly starting to shallow.  
  
Anxiety overcoming me I quickly finished undoing Harry's pants and he took this as a sign. In one swift movement my underwear was ripped from me and I was hoisted up the wall a bit more.  
  
I felt his shaft hover at my entrance for a second and I immediately looked down at Harry. Our eyes locked for two seconds. He was looking for affirmation.  
  
I nodded.  
  
I wanted the oblivion. That split second of bitter ecstasy.  
  
I keep my eyes shut tight, concentrating solely on the physical sensations Harry was causing. I didn't care.  
  
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.  
  
Nothing except the sour comfort of Harry pressing me hard against the wall as he pounded into me.  
  
In perfect synchronization our breaths started to shorten. Deep pants echo around the room. I feel the tension starting to coil within my body like a chain been twisted round and round just wanting, waiting for release. I moan deep in the back on my throat, clutching hard onto Harry's shoulder, my fingernails almost ripping through the fabric of his robes. I moan again as Harry starts to quicken his pace, the tension rising even more. Desperate for relief I sink my teeth into Harry's shoulder.  
  
In one swift moment everything is released. Every bad moment of my life never happened. I'm floating on a cloud. I feel Harry shudder against me and I knew he was where I was.  
  
That taste of bitter, cynical freedom.  
  
Freedom where nothing mattered yet at the same time everything counted.  
  
Harry lets out a soft cross between a moan and growl as our breathing gradually begins to go back to normal. With that the realities of the world start to creep back in. We can't hide from them forever.  
  
Harry moves back ever so slightly and I disentangle my legs from around his waist. Slowly I slide down until my feet touch the ground. I flatten my palms against the wall as my knees almost give way.  
  
Harry's still close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off him, his breath grazing past my temple. We stand there for quite sometime, unable to look at each other, each lost in our own thoughts as incoherent as they were. I purposely blocked from my mind the most recent events.  
  
They seemed too hard to deal with.  
  
An awkward tension poisons the air as it becomes more apparent that we are both avoiding each other's gaze and the topic.  
  
Silence darkens the room.  
  
The harsh sounds of a zipper being pulled up stains the atmosphere.  
  
I lean back even more heavily on the wall and I slowly begin to sink down it. Silent tears flow. Harry takes a seat next to me, leaning against the wall. I laugh sardonically; it almost comes out as a choke.  
  
I didn't think life could get more shit but I'd just been proven wrong. Next to me Harry appears as calm as ever. Not the peaceful kind of calm. The tortured kind of calm. The same calm he had when I first came in.  
  
Damn him and his ability to oppress everything. I had as much chance of reading his feelings as I did of getting through one potions lesson without Snape taking points from Gryffindor.  
  
Gradually the awkwardness and weirdness seeps away and all we are left with is the same feeling of companionship as when I first walked through the door. Well not exactly the same. There is this inexplicable bone, a sense of understanding on a level I could never have comprehended before.  
  
Neither of us says a word, we just let the time slowly tick by. I don't move until the sun softly peeks over the windowsill causing shadows to dance against the opposing wall. Silently Harry stands and offers his hand to help me up. Gratefully I take it and wordlessly we both head back to the common room.  
  
From there, there was no turning back. When either of us were feeling a bit overwhelmed we went off quietly waiting here for the other to find us; while keeping this room and its consequences private from the rest of the world. Sometimes we would sit together without a word, others we would talk, scream, yell and throw tantrums and then sometimes we would both be searching for that sweet ecstasy.  
  
That one moment to make us forget all our troubles, even if it was just for a second.  
  
So it was no surprise for me to end up here tonight.  
  
Suddenly during dinner, Ron had been halfway through a question to him, when Harry had silently stood up from the table and walked out of the Great Hall. Ignoring all of Ron's calls. Ron had immediately looked at me but I was already in the process of getting up to follow Harry.  
  
"What's going on?" Ron called only to be ignored.  
  
Now I silently watched as smoke slowly drifted out the window, the moonlight catching it and giving the cloud a strange yellowed glow. Something seemed different about Harry's mood tonight. He appeared to be more comfortable within himself, like he had had some kind of epiphany.  
  
I felt Harry turn his stare toward me. I couldn't help but blush a little as I felt him study my features closely, as if he had never seen them before. Slowly I turn to look at him and he quickly snaps his gaze away taking on the air of a child caught raiding the cookie jar.  
  
We go back to our comfortable silence and Harry starts to fidget. I know he just wants to get something out but he can't find the words. I keep silent, not wanting to push. Patiently I wait for his coherence.  
  
"It never gets easier."  
  
I don't react; personally I thought that was the point. The whole thing would have been pointless if it got easier. We would be bored if life got easier.  
  
I'm not sure when I got this cynical. I know it was before that first night. Maybe Sirius' death hit me harder than I accepted. Maybe as I saw each friend lowered into the ground as Voldemort infected the world like a rash they took a little part of me exposing my caustic nature. Maybe as each name was added to the Honour Roll in the Ministry of Magic a little bit of my optimism was tacked to it.  
  
Death and fear had become a constant part of our lives since Voldemort went public. The pressure placed on Harry had become incredible. He'd spent hours with Professor Dumbledore, no one quite sure what they were doing but each time he would come back with a fresh bruise or a new book.  
  
Harry certainly kept quiet about any dealings he had with the Headmaster. It was a constant sore point with Ron, as if he thought it was his right to know every single detail of Harry's life. I accepted that he would tell us in his own time. In the meanwhile it was best to shut up about it.  
  
"I kept hoping, but tonight I just knew. Even if I do it, even if I win something, someone else will come along." He hesitates.  
  
I get the impression that he doesn't want to tell me. I feel slightly off balance. Harry had kept secrets from me but he had never appeared so torn about sharing it. I shift a little on the windowsill trying to hide my discomfort.  
  
Finally Harry speaks again. Not to me more to himself, the empty air. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."  
  
I'm shocked, surprised, bewildered, stunned all of the above and more. I'm sure I'm staring at him. I've got no idea what to say. I snap my mouth closed when I realise it was hanging open at a rather unattractive angle.  
  
"You." I finally manage to whisper, my voice sounding strange.  
  
Harry nods and looks away. I know I'm not making things easier for him. For once in my life I'm at a loss. All the knowledge and wisdom in the world would not help me now.  
  
"When did you...? The meetings with Professor Dumbledore."  
  
Harry's Adam's apple bobs and I stop trying to find the words.  
  
"Albus told me just after Sirius." Harry breaks off.  
  
I study him hard. It was the first time I had heard him call Professor Dumbledore by his first name. It came off his tongue with practiced ease giving me the impression that their relationship was a lot closer than they put forth to the school. More like equals rather than student and teacher.  
  
Knowing when he found out made all the difference. Explained almost everything but mostly his strange behaviour throughout sixth year. I always thought it was Sirius. Somehow I was relieved to find that it was something else as well. It explained why his mind always seemed so cluttered, especially on that first night.  
  
We lapse into silence again and Harry reaches out, fumbling for a cigarette. When he has it lit I come to a decision. He wouldn't have told me if he didn't want to talk about it even if it was only on a subconscious level.  
  
"Either must die at the hand of the other."  
  
"For neither can live while the other survives." Harry finishes for me. "I never wanted it to come to that."  
  
I nod, understanding. He didn't think he could do it. As much as Voldemort deserved to die, Harry still didn't think he could do it. Tears sprung to my eyes. I scoot closer to him, sitting now with my back propped up against his leg, both legs dangling down over the sill against the wall. I gently lean in brushing my lips against his, as I lean back he forces a smile of thanks at me.  
  
The silence starts to irritate me so I start to probe again. "He will have power the Dark Lord knows not?" This piece puzzled me the most. What powers had Harry kept hidden from me, from all of us?  
  
Harry immediately looks away from me and out the window. "I don't know. I don't know if I still have it," he answers barely above a whisper.  
  
I want to yell and scream and tell him that he'll find it, that he still has it, whatever it is.  
  
I don't.  
  
Calmly I sit there waiting for him to tell me. Then a terrifying thought hits me. A power so great that Voldemort despise and fear above all else had to be huge. It can't just be lost. Was it even possible for a seventeen-year-old boy to control that power?  
  
"Love," Harry whispers very suddenly.  
  
I rapidly study his features trying to figure out what he meant. His head turned to the window so I can only see his profile, I see him close his eyes and take a deep breath.  
  
Looking at him like that it strikes me.  
  
Love. That was the power.  
  
My hand trembles as I reach out. Slowly I rest my hand on his cheek gently bringing his head around to look at me. I stare into his eyes searching them.  
  
He's lost.  
  
A small child just craving the attention of both parents. Just wanting someone, something to love and to love him back. He immediately closes his eyes; he never liked to be so exposed.  
  
"Harry," I gently ask. "Look at me." It seems like an eternity but finally he opens his eyes.  
  
He doesn't even wait for me to speak.  
  
"I'm numb. For the past two years that's all I've been. Just craving to feel. Anything. Everything. Pain, fear, and hurt. I've been walking through life not feeling it. The only time I've ever felt anything, as fleeting as it was, was when, you and I." Harry breaks off and swallows.  
  
I'm surprised he told me that much. I'm surprised he told me anything at all. I study him carefully before I speak.  
  
"If you let yourself, you can still feel."  
  
Harry's eyes blaze for a second. "I feel and that gets people killed."  
  
"People die even if you don't love them," I whisper tears forming against my will.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" Harry asks quietly. "That I enjoy it. That I enjoy being cut off from everyone, every fucking thing on this planet."  
  
Instinct takes over and I lean in and kiss him. Hard. Hard enough to draw blood. I pull back leaving him looking up at me curiously.  
  
"It's not all physical." I pause for breath. "That feeling you get when we're together. It's not all physical." I stop. My voice drops to below a whisper. "I feel it too."  
  
Harry stares at me, his eyes full of wonder.  
  
"That power. You do still have it." I pause, my voice still a whisper, unsure about my next words.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Harry looks up at me stunned.  
  
"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. You just have to know." Smiling slightly I take up my original position on the window sill staring out into the night sky across from me I feel Harry do the same.  
  
Don't be confused by my apparent lack of ceremony My mind is clear.  
  
I may be low or miles high off in the distance I want you near.  
  
I love you  
  
Even when I'm sleeping.  
  
When I close my eyes you're everywhere.  
  
And if they take me flying on the magic carpet, See me wave  
  
If our communication fails I'll reconnect it, I want to rave.  
  
I love you  
  
Even when I'm sleeping. When I close my eyes you're everywhere.  
  
No matter where the road is leading us remember Don't be afraid.  
  
We have a continent that sometimes comes between us, That's ok.  
  
I love you  
  
Even when I'm sleeping.  
  
When i close my eyes you're everywhere. 


	2. Always

**A/N:- This chapter was never going to happen. Originally this was going to be a standalone but I got inspired. Lots of big, big smoochies to Jamie for betaing. Without her this wouldn't be half as good.**

**The lyrics at the beginning and end are from "Always" by Blink 182 and are to blame for the chapter happening.**

**I've nicked a line from an axed TV show. Kuddos to whoever can find it.**

**As always Harry Potter is not mine.**

_I've been here before a few times_

_And I'm quite aware we're dying_

_And your hands they shake with goodbye_

_And I'll take you back if you'd have me_

_So here I am I'm trying_

_So here I am are you ready_

_Come on let me hold you touch you feel you_

_Always_

_Kiss you taste you all night_

_Always_

"I don't think I can do this anymore."__

My voice cracked as hot tears crash down my cheeks. I wanted nothing more than to take back those words. Stop them from hanging thickly in the air between us.

I can't seem to move. The look on Harry's face was slowly tearing my heart from my chest. I never thought it would come to this. I thought I was strong. I thought we were strong. 

It was one amazing illusion.

Harry doesn't say a thing. His head just turns slightly to the side as he stares at me. I don't think he wants to believe it. I see his Adam's apple bob rather severely.

  
The silence starts to stretch out but time doesn't matter. As painful as it is I don't want this moment to end. After this it's back to the way we were before. Before West Towers and cigarettes. Before shagging each other's brains out. 

Sighing, Harry runs a hand through his eternally messy hair. 

"Maybe that would be better."

I'm floored. I never expected that. The words flow easily from his mouth but he still manages to sound like he has been defeated.

Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut to begin with. That's what got us into this whole mess. Ever since I spilled my guts to him, things had been weird. Harry and I both liked to pretend our feelings didn't matter. 

Like a silly little thing like a confession of love would not make any difference.

Suddenly everything was different. Each of us keeping a little part of ourselves concealed from the other.

_Flashback_

_"Something's odd," I mumble taking great care not to meet Harry's eyes as I nervously straighten my skirt._

_"Tell me about it," Harry mumbles before straightening up and turning away from me to pull his shirt on._

_I never felt further away from him than I did right now. We didn't talk. The real issues were ignored. When we did talk it was more about school. There was so much hanging between us, yet we still turned to the other for unspoken comfort._

_It was the first time we had ever met anyplace other than the __West__Tower__. Tonight the __West__Tower__ just didn't seem right. A week after that night, it was too soon to go back there. We had been sitting down at dinner trying to avoid each others gaze as Ron went about picking apart the days Quidditch practice. _

_Yo u would think, Harry being captain would have been all ears. Instead he was picking at his food and nodding in agreement whenever he thought necessary. Ron had continued to drone on oblivious to Harry's inattentiveness. _

_As Ron was beginning to dissect the new chasers manoeuvre, Harry suddenly looked up catching my eye._

_With that simple moment nothing else mattered. The rest of the Great Hall faded out of existence as we came to an unspoken agreement and again Ron was left wondering what was going on as we both left the table without a word to him. _

_That's how we ended up here, in the Room of Requirement, fucking each other to nothingness. That was the only way to describe it. It was swift, rough and nasty as we tried to forget. There was a desperation that had never been there before. Harry had always had gentleness behind his touch even when he was making it hurt in the best ways. _

_Tonight that was gone._

_Of all the things we had done together there had never been awkwardness between us. It had just never been there. Now it was coming through loud and clear. Much like a foghorn through a bleak night._

_Magically a pack of cigarettes appeared on the table next to Harry. He sighed as he made a grab for them and tossed the packet to me. We didn't speak. There were no words. We were too afraid to try and say what we both knew we were thinking. _

_End Flashback_

So it continued in the exact same fashion for weeks on end. Shagging without words. We tried to pretend it didn't bother us. I don't know about Harry but it was killing me inside.

Finally, I'd screwed up some semblance of courage. I'd spoken; I'd ended it, yet somehow that seemed to be a whole lot worse.

"What do we do now?" I ask, my voice smaller than I would have liked it to be. I feel broken and I hate it. 

Harry smiles ironically. "What we've always done. Pretend it never happened."

I bite back a sob. I don't want to do that. I want everyone to know. The lies are too much hard work to keep up with. I hate pretending everything is fine when all I really want to do is crawl into bed for the next week and come out to a pile of homework to keep my minds off of things.

Suddenly, Harry is right there, invading my personal space. I look up at him blinking back tears, his emerald eyes shining with pain. It's the rawest I've ever seen Harry. I almost hate myself for what I have just done. 

Catching me by surprise he dips his head and lightly presses his lips to mine. His tongue gently runs along my lips before he pulls back leaving the room without a word.

Finally I let myself go. Tears flow down my face, as I stand pathetically in the centre of the room unwilling to move.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Weeks had gone by. I was numb. I had lost count of the amount of times I'd been asked if I was okay. In the end they had just given up. They knew they were never going to get anything from me.

I hadn't spoken to Harry. At least really spoken to him. I couldn't look him in the eye. It was too hard. The few times we had spoken it was short and awkward and always ended with one of us pretending that we suddenly had to be somewhere.

Ron had even picked up on us acting weird. He had cornered me a few times trying to get me to talk. I didn't even have to ask to know that he had done the same to Harry. It was almost ironic how we could become sex buddies and no one even noticed until we stopped.

The last thing I had expected when I returned from the library that night was to be ambushed. I scrambled into the common room to find Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna (what the hell was she doing in the Gryffindor common room?) seated on the couch facing the portrait hole with solemn yet firm faces. Movement from my right attracted me and I found Harry sitting on the windowsill slowly dragging on a cigarette. 

To most he would look the picture of the calm. From the tightness of his jaw I knew better. 

He was pissed.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice taking on a defensive edge. "Intervention time?" It wasn't until then I noticed that Lavender, Parvati, Seamus and Dean had been brought along for support. 

My blood boiled. "This doesn't concern you."

"You're wrong," Ron answers back immediately. "Hermione, we're all sick of tiptoeing around you guys. Just talk to Harry. That's all we want."

"Oh, I'm sorry to be an inconvenience," I snap back immediately.

"And stop being a sarcastic bitch. That would be nice too," Ginny mumbles but not bothering to try and keep her voice down.

I step back, staring at Ginny slightly surprised by her malice. I thought she of all people would understand. It took me a couple of seconds to realise that she didn't know what there was to understand.

Silently I move my eyes to appeal to Neville. I had always been able to count on him previously. He quickly moves his eyes to his feet. It was that more than anything that made me realise what a grade A bitch I must have been lately.

I look over at Harry to see him watching me cautiously. I avoid our eyes meeting even for two seconds. I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life.

"I can't do this," I answer and immediately turn to leave. 

I run into something solid. Looking up, I realize its Harry standing there, his hand firmly on my arm. Bastard must have figured out how to apparate inside Hogwarts.

"Don't touch me," I tell him forcefully. "You don't get to do that anymore," my voice is barely audible by the time the last word leaves my mouth.

Satisfied I'm not leaving, Harry removes his hand from my arm and takes a step back. We stand defensively facing each other, the silence crackling between us.

"If I remember correctly that was your idea."

I cross my arms across my chest. All I really want to do is curl up into a ball and hide. I didn't want this kind of confrontation. Certainly not in front of entire Gryffindor Seventh Year, Ginny and Luna. This was going to lead to all kinds of negativity I didn't want to face right now.

"Are you happy now guys?" I ask, turning towards the group on the couch, purposefully keeping my voice quiet and calm. "You've got the basics, I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something to entertain Hogwarts for the rest of the year." 

Ron and Ginny begin to shift rather uncomfortably on the couch. Neville was already tactfully making his way up the stairs while Luna was staring off into space, no indication she had even heard a word we were saying. Lavender and Parvati, however, were hanging off every word whilst Dean and Seamus looked decidedly bored.

"Hermione, shut up." 

My head whips around to look at Harry. I open my mouth to retort but he holds up a hand to cut me off. 

"They were right, okay? We do need to talk."

"Oh, no. You don't get to be the mature one in this," I tell a spot just right of his ear. I still can't meet his eye. If I do, I'm lost.

"You know it as well as –" Harry cuts himself off. "Could you at least look at me?"

"Isn't this in the least bit hard for you?" I retort snarkily. "Did you take a course in 'Unfeeling Bastard'?"

"Obviously you prefer the spoilt brat approach."

"People in glass houses –"

Harry raises his voice, talking over me. "Should only throw stones when under attack."

I open my mouth to answer back but snap it closed again when I realise how ridiculous our conversation had become.

"Sorry," I mumble staring at my feet.

"Yeah. Me too." Harry whispers. 

I hear him take a deep breath. He wasn't just talking about the fight, it was pretty much everything.

"It's just…" I pause looking for the right words. "I just can't."

Harry runs a hand through his hair again. This conversation is stressing him just as much as me. I can't help but feel some spiteful amusement from this turn in events.

"Seems to be your theme song lately," he mumbles. There was no malice behind the words, just a tired statement of fact.

I sigh searching for a way to explain. 

"Harry, it's killing me." I feel the tears start to force their way to the surface and I struggle to keep my voice clear. "I don't know which is worse. Screwing my best friend just because or pretending it never happened. And I hate it. I hate that I love you. And it's not like the fairy tales. It's scary, messy and horrible. And why can't I just hate you?" I finish with a whisper. 

I shut my mouth slightly shocked. I hadn't expected a monologue. I'd lost control halfway through and tears were now flowing freely down my face.

Harry stares at me with a strange, unreadable expression on his face. 

"Do you think this is any easier for me?" he asks desperately, strain evident in his voice. "I look at you and all I want –" Harry breaks off and turns away from me so I can't see his face.

I stare at his back for a few seconds, gathering my thoughts and my wits. I'm just about at the end of my emotional tether for tonight.

"Harry?" I query gently, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his arm. "Harry, what do you want?" 

As my arm makes contact with his exposed skin I almost immediately pull back. A distant jolt flows through me, as I remember exactly what I can't have. Harry flinches and almost pulls away.

"It doesn't matter," he states dejectedly. "I can't have it anyway." 

Quickly he brushes my hand away and strides out the portrait hole. I let him go, knowing I'll get nothing more from him if I follow.

Furiously I wipe away my tears, silently cursing Harry for turning me into a pathetic weeping mess. I stare blindly at the portrait hole; painfully aware every singe movement was being watched. 

Why didn't they possess the same tact as Neville? At least he understood that some things were private. Maybe they did understand, they just didn't want to believe it.

I had no idea what I was going to say to them. 'Sorry I've been keeping the hugest part of my life from you for the past year,' seemed redundant and at the same time unnecessary. I doubted they would even understand exactly what had happened between Harry and me. I'm not sure I entirely understand.

"Hermione?" I hear Ginny query softly. She sounds only mere feet from me. I don't turn around. I don't want her to see my face.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," her voice is barely above a whisper. I don't want her pity. I want her absence. 

However, I still nod slowly not turning around, loath to be dragged into a conversation. She doesn't sense my mood.

"We would never," Ginny rushes. "I would never…" whole sentences challenge her tonight. "I didn't know. I would never have made you if I had."

Her apology was so sincere and heartfelt and desperate that I just had to get out of there. I couldn't face them. I didn't know what to say or how to say it. I needed to be alone in my misery.

Ignoring my tears I pushed through the portrait hole. I had no idea where I was going but the common room had become far too stifling. The walls seemed to be pushing in on me. 

Like my own personal, emotional Temple of Doom.

Once out into the Hogwarts corridors I felt their vastness mock with wit a horrible stab of loneliness. Taking a deep breath I turned left, no final destination in mind just a strong need to clear my head.

It was an odd sensation, walking with no sense of distance or time. One foot moved in front of the other automatically. If thoughts were entering or leaving my mind they weren't leaving an impression. When I walked past one of the classrooms I couldn't help but be surprised to find the sun peeping over the horizon through a window.

Wanting to shower and be at breakfast without talking to anyone I ran back to the common room. I still couldn't bear to face my friends. I didn't want any of their compassion and I certainly didn't want any of their curiosity.

Going through my normal morning routine I couldn't help feeling a sense of numb apprehension. As I turned on the shower the walls seemed to permeate trepidation. Taking all my strength I pushed that feeling to the bottom of a long list of feelings I didn't want to deal with right now.

Slipping off my robe, I slowly stepped under the spray, letting the water run through my hair, pounding around my ears, blocking out any other sounds. Rolling the tension out of my neck I turn to face the wall. Keeping my head under the jet I reached out, my palms flat against the wall. Staring at the floor I willed the tears not to come. 

I was sick of crying.

I don't know how long I stood there. Watching as the water swirled on the tiled floor before making its way down the drain. I felt the tears stinging the back of my throat, but I still refused to let go. Nothing would come from it.

Realising I would most likely be late if I didn't leave now I wrenched the taps off, shivering slightly as the warmth of the water left me.

Turning around I gasp when I see Harry standing in the dressing room part of the cubicle, reaching out as if to grab my attention. Quickly I grab my towel and wrap it tightly around me. I can't help but roll my eyes at the clique-ness of the situation.

We stand with an obvious distance from each other, scared of slight contact, both staring at opposite corners of the stall. I didn't know where to start. Too many walls had been broken. Not enough bricks to repair them.

He took a deep breath before plunging in. "We need to talk."

"I thought we had already done that," I snapped unable to keep the bitterness or sarcasm from my voice.

Harry runs an irritated hand through his hair. "I meant without the yelling." He pauses for a couple of seconds. "And without the audience."

I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to pull my thoughts together. Slowly I look up. Harry's face is unreadable. He's closed himself off carefully. Desperately I search his eyes, looking for something. Whatever it is, I think I find it.

"Can't we just skip that part?" 

The words barely make their way out. But as the last one leaves my lips I feel a great weight lift from my shoulders. I know it's dangerous. I know we'll fall back in to the same pattern we had adopted before but I can't help it. 

I need him.

Harry's deep emerald eyes bore into mine for a second. A second of understanding.

It's hard to tell who kissed whom. I just know the moment I felt his lips on mine there was no going back. We had already started the intricate dance of our downward spiral.

Gently his tongue rolled against my lips, slowly requesting entrance. Parting my lips ever so slightly I let him slip by, taking all my concentration to suppress a moan.

As I felt Harry's hand delve into my wet hair, pulling my head closer to him, I knew there was something different about this, something that had been missing from all those weeks of dry shagging. There was a spark.

Slowly I unbutton Harry's shirt running my hands only his perfectly chiselled torso before sweeping the shirt off his shoulders not caring about the wet floor.

I let Harry leisurely back me into the wall. Feeling its solidness against my back I relax into it, letting it hold me up rather than my legs that I was rapidly beginning not to trust.

With great care he pried his lips from mine, bringing them around to suckle lightly on my neck. Running my hands soothingly across his back, letting one reach up high enough to run through his silky hair.

Harry flattened one hand across my belly before bringing it around to my side. I gasped as he ripped the towel from my bum and shoulders feeling the shock of the cold wall.

He stepped back from me and looked at me. I've never felt so naked in my life shivering under his intense gaze.

"Harry?" I whispered breaking his daze.

Slowly he shook his head as if trying to clear an unwanted thought from his mind. Gently I reached out a hand and curled it around his.

"I…"

"Harry, don't," I cut across him. "This is only cruel if we make it that way."

Reaching out to caress his face I tenderly run my hand down his cheek, my eyes begging him to continue. Ever so slowly he closes the gap he created, lips back on mine his left hand running tantalisingly down my side.

As his tongue massages mine he brings that hand back up to lightly caress my breast. Kneading it gently in his hand, he pushes his body against me, forcing me further back into the wall.

So engrossed in what his hand was doing I hadn't noticed the other gently drawing circles on my stomach gradually dropping lower. It wasn't until he removed it did I feel the pang. Unable to control myself I moaned against his lips at the loss.

His lips began to trail delicately down my neck, his tongue flicking between them every so often in the most erotic fashion. A flush ran through me when I felt his hand brush the inside of my thigh.

Gently I brushed my hand against his abdominals, savouring the feel of his muscles, shivering in anticipation. It was that slight touch that changed our moods. Suddenly things seemed more urgent. 

Harry's hand travelled up my thigh much quicker than I had ever imagined. Somehow the rush didn't affect his skill in anyway. A strangled cry escaped my throat as his fingers expertly massaged my clit, my legs rapidly turning to jelly.

Reaching out my fingers hooked through Harry's belt loops. With a yank I pulled him as close as possible. 

I need him.

Pulling his head back up I pressed my lips to Harry's. I wanted to never let go. Every, touch, every sense, and every emotion I wanted to feel it. I wanted the numbness to disappear.

Harry seemed to have gotten my message as I felt him undo his belt, his pants falling to the floor mere seconds later.

With the help of Harry I hoisted myself up the wall. My legs wrapping around his waist I ever so slowly let him enter. I saw him bite his bottom lip.

Green eyes found mine as he pulled out, slowly getting into a rhythm.

There was something different about this. We were both searching for something but it wasn't oblivion.

Staring into emerald orbs I felt the pressure start to coil deep within me. I could feel my fingernails claw into his back. Harry's grip on me was tightening with every movement.

The world had completely fallen away from us. Nothing mattered. I didn't want anything to matter.

I felt my breathing start to shallow. Harry wasn't far behind. The sound of our breathing, of our flesh slapping flesh echoed around the showers.

I hadn't expected it. Not for it to come upon me as fast as it did. I let out a cry; a cross between a moan and a yelp. For that second nothing mattered. I was free.

I felt Harry shudder against me before gently slipping out of me. He stepped back enough for me to stand. His body still painfully close.

I was rapidly crashing down from my orgasm. Reality slipping in, unwanted.

I wanted to shrink into the wall. I wanted it to never have happened. I squeezed my eyes shut.

I couldn't look at Harry.

I braced myself against the wall, begging to whatever god that was that I could at least pretend to be strong.

I felt Harry move away from me. I heard his clothes being pulled on.

I still didn't open my eyes when I felt him standing two centimetres from me again. He didn't say anything. He caressed my cheek. I didn't even try to bite back the sob that escaped me when his lips touched my forehead.

Only when I heard him slip out the door, locking it behind him did I allow myself to breakdown completely.

Opening my eyes I slid down the wall, not caring about the cold, tears falling freely down my face.

*******

I hurried down the steps to the common room not bothering to check Parvati or Lavender's beds. They were most likely in the shower at this time of the morning.

Hitting the bottom step I almost fall over in shock when I found Neville, Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Dean, Seamus and Ginny milling around the common room a lost expression on all of their faces.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Ron suddenly exclaimed rushing to give me a hug. "You're here."

Impatiently I push Ron away. 

"Yes, Ron. I know it's a big shock. I'm at the school I've been to for the past seven years. Now what's going on?" 

Looks, which were supposed to be discrete, were exchanged around me. I felt my stomach drop an inch.

"Miss Granger." My stomach hit the floor. I hadn't noticed Professor Dumbledore standing by the fireplace, a solemn expression marring his usual cheerful features. He looked like he had been awake for hours.

"When did he leave?" I ask him immediately. 

I tried desperately to keep a grip on calm, whatever the cost.

Dumbledore purposefully ignored my question. "Harry asked me to give you this," he replied, holding up an envelope. 

"I don't care about the fucking letter," I answer, my voice barely above a whisper. Calm had completely gotten off two exits back and I was fast approaching hysterical. "I just saw him. He can't have left. He would have bloody told me."

I pushed past Ron and the others, reaching the portrait hole before Dumbledore even started to call me back.

"Miss Granger," it was the sharpest tone I had ever heard the Headmaster use with a student. "Harry asked me to do two things before he left. And no matter what I think of them I feel I must comply with his wishes."

Something in his tone made me turn and look Dumbledore in the eye. I don't think annoyed is an adequate enough word to describe how I felt when I found that his twinkle had become even brighter. 

Honestly, there's a time and there's a place.

Sensing my change in mood Dumbledore calmly placed the envelope on the coffee table near the fireplace before heading out the door. I felt a bit ripped the he didn't say anything more but I doubt I would have paid any attention.

My whole being was focused on that envelope. Never before had a single piece of parchment looked so daunting. I was vaguely aware of the others moving around me.

"C'mon," I hear Neville urge quietly. "I think we should get ready for breakfast."

I was vaguely aware of them leaving the room, Ron gently squeezing my arm as he passed. I barely nodded in acknowledgement. I was entirely focused on the envelope on the table, trying desperately to find the courage to open it.

Finally my stupidity became overwhelming. Marching straight up to the coffee table I snatched up the envelope.

Taking a deep breath I broke the seal before sitting heavily in one of the fluffy armchairs trying to get comfortable. Hands shaking I opened the parchment.

_"Mione,_

_I've gone. Don't try to follow. I mean that, 'Mione. I have to do this. I think you know why._

_I wish I could say something eloquent here, but I just… can't._

_I can't tell you why it had to be now. Last night I just knew. The bastard had to die._

_Jesus, 'Mione. I've no idea what to say. I know you're going to kill me for not doing this in person, but I think I would have chickened out._

_I just need you to know – the prophecy – I get that now._

_Always,_

_Harry_

_And I'll miss you're laugh you smile_

_I'll admit I'm wrong if you'd tell me_

_I'm so sick of fights I hate them_

_Lets__ start this again for real_

_So here I am I'm trying_

_So here I am are you ready_

_Come on let me hold you touch you feel you_

_Always_

_Kiss you taste you all night_

_Always_

_I've been here before a few times_

_And I'm quite aware we're dying_


	3. Interlude

Author's Note: In the absence of an actual chapter I thought I would post a short interlude. It was just something I came up with while mucking around trying to get into Hermione's head space. It turned out rather sweet so I thought I just had to post it. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I did writing it. I just sent the final chapter to Jamie, my beta, so hopefully she will be done with it by this weekend. As always she is the most gorgeous, fantastic beta/person in the entire world.  
  
I don't know why I ended up here. Maybe I thought he would miraculously appear. Maybe I was just craving some sense of normalcy. Maybe I just wanted to be by myself for awhile. Whatever it was the result was that my feet ended up walking me to the West Tower seemingly of their own accord.  
  
I never thought of the room as large but without Harry it seemed enormous and empty. Despite its extra size the room seemed strangely inviting.  
  
I took a tentative step inside. Memories flooded me. I could almost smell Harry. I didn't cry. I was beyond that. Even if I wanted to I don't think I would have been able to. I couldn't cry anymore.  
  
I'd adapted to his absence.  
  
In quick strides I made my way to the window. Suddenly in a hurry, my breath hitching as an unforgivable wave of claustrophobia washed over me, I flicked the latch and wrenched it open.  
  
The cool air washed over me its calming effect instantaneous. I started out into the darkness, my mind blank as I watched the stars against the black ink of the sky. I'd always loved this. It made me feel insignificant, like my problems were trivial, like I was just one small part of the ugly mess.  
  
Pulling my robes around me, I climbed onto the window sill, staring out into black, letting it wash over me.  
  
Harry's presence in the room was too strong. I couldn't block my mind as flashes of memory invaded my thoughts.  
  
I gave up trying to block them. Here there was no point, here there was no one to ask me how I was doing. Finally I could really let go.  
  
Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes and leant my head back against the wall. I felt the tears leak from the corner of my eyes. I didn't bother with them. I'd cried so many tears a few unchecked weren't going to make a difference.  
  
"You're not really okay are you?"  
  
I didn't even register surprise at the voice. I barely felt it. It was more of a 'oh, that's different' kind of feeling.  
  
I roll my head to the side to see Ron standing in the doorway his shirt untucked and tie loos around his neck. He looked entirely harassed.  
  
"NEWTs are next week," I tell him, completely ignoring his question.  
  
I don't want to talk about how I'm feeling. I don't want to talk about why I kept is secret and I definitely don't want to talk about what happened with me and Harry. What I really want is to be left alone.  
  
I'm not going to get that.  
  
The fact that Ron even came looking for me means that he's had enough. He was sick of my snappishness, sick of my silence and sick of my intimidating silence, sick of my thoroughly depressed demeanour.  
  
He wasn't the only one.  
  
"I know," Ron answers. I could taste the care in his voice. "I thought you would be in the library."  
  
Of course. Where else would I be?  
  
I want to scream at him. Not because he done anything wrong. Just because he was there.  
  
I don't.  
  
I shrug before turning back to stare out the window. Behind me I hear Ron take a step into the room as if moving to comfort me.  
  
"Don't," I hear myself whisper, barely audible, my voice cracking. He can't be in here.  
  
I hear his foot thunk to the ground as if he had stopped mid-step. We're silent for a second.  
  
"It was here. This is where you and Harry..." he lets that sentence trail off.  
  
My back still too him I nod slowly surprised that he picked up on that. Maybe Ron is just a lot more insightful than I first thought.  
  
I hear Ron move back to the doorway and to my surprise I don't hear the door close. I turn to see Ron sitting with his back against the door jam, one leg raised pushing against the opposite side of the doorframe. His head was turned toward me watching, waiting for something to happen.  
  
"I don't want to talk," I tell him hoping he would get the hint.  
  
If he did he ignored it.  
  
"I know."  
  
Such a simple statement. So many meanings behind it.  
  
I didn't get to ponder that as Ron continued to stare at me, his eyes tracking my slightest movement. It was like he was trying to read a book... a book written in latin.  
  
Sighing I turn my attention back to the black ink of the night sky searching for comfort. I didn't find it.  
  
It wasn't the same. Wallowing in self-pity with someone was staring at you like you were a fascinating potions experiment.  
  
"What do you want?" I ask him quietly. I was never good at this, always preferring to keep my emotions quite. Sure I cried in public, but very rarely explained the reasons. Harry and Ron had always known it best not to ask.  
  
"I don't want anything."  
  
I turn to him shocked by the sincerity in his voice. His wide, blue eyes staring up at me, gauging my reaction, challenging me. I wasn't going to back down. Not when so much was at stake.  
  
"Tell me about him," Ron asks quietly.  
  
I blink. His question catches me off guard.  
  
"Wha-, what do you mean?"  
  
Ron shrugs looking kind of embarrassed. "I don't know. Tell me something no one else knows. Something that happened with just the two of you."  
  
I stare at Ron utterly dumbfounded. What happened to the tactless goof I'd grown so fond of?  
  
Ron shrugs again before dropping his head to stare at his hands, fidgeting nervously. "I thought –". He clears his throat. "I thought, maybe, it might help. I don't know. Everyone has been asking you how you are and wanting to know what happened that I thought, maybe you just needed to talk about Harry."  
  
Maybe he was right. Maybe if I just talked about Harry it wouldn't hurt so much. I wouldn't feel that horrible stab in my chest every time I breathe.  
  
I shake my head slowly, trying to jumble my thoughts around.  
  
It didn't seem right. It may have helped but it didn't seem right. Talking about him here, it was a betrayal of sorts. Up here we trusted each other completely. I wasn't going to desecrate that for the slim chance of feeling better.  
  
I gazed at Ron, my jaw set in determination, willing myself not to take out my anger and frustration out on him. Slowly I slide off the window sill feeling more sincere when my feet hit thudded on the wooden floor.  
  
"I can't," I tell him quietly. Quickly I avert my eyes, unwilling to give him a chance to read me, call me on whatever I was trying to hide.  
  
Still gazing at the floor I leave the room stepping over Ron when I reach the doorway. As soon as I had done so I bolted. I didn't want him to come after me. It was just too hard.  
  
I'm halfway down the corridor when I hear Ron behind me, trying desperately to catch up.  
  
I stop dead. I can feel the lump in my throat. I always hated crying in public.  
  
Behind me I hear Ron slow to a walk stopping about a metre from me. If I reached back I could have touched him.  
  
"I'm drowning," I whisper keeping my back toward him. "There's nothing else Ron. I'm drowning."  
  
I don't look back as I walk off but I can feel his eyes tracing my every movement. He doesn't move to follow. He knows I won't let him help me now. 


	4. Hate

**Authors Note: Well finally. I'm done. Finished and betaed. I way excited about this chapter. First more than one-shot fic I've ever finished. I can see me getting some hate mail about the ending but it's the only way I can see this ending without being hopelessly sappy and unrealistic. The lyrics in italics are from "Hate" by Grinspoon (best Aussie pub-band ever) of their 'New Detention' album which came out in 2002. Look out for their new album (and first international release) "Trills, Kills and Sunday Pills", in Easter next year. As always big massive thanks to my Jamie, my beta, who is seriously the best person and beta in the world. Finally, enjoy.**

_Woke up to find you weary,  
Left hand was in the red room,  
My, my our thoughts were black then.  
So does it make a difference you,  
Always by my side, always by my side.  
And I'll, hate you everyday, hate you everyday.  
Cause your, never going to change,  
Always be the same._

I couldn't be around them. So cheerful, so upbeat. Their world was completely functional. I tried to smile, giggle, to be a girl with them. It was forced. It set me apart from them all.

I didn't understand their crazy obsession with boys. They didn't understand the mess between me and Harry.

Not that I was very forthcoming about that.

I had to get away from them. Not that they would notice. I was just background to them anyway.

I had taken my chance as soon as it presented itself. Slipping out unnoticed, following my feet to the Astronomy Tower. Needing the height to clear my head.

I had Harry to thank for that.

I wrenched one of the windows open. Climbing out to sit on the sill, my legs dangling outside against the wall.

Reaching into my pyjama pocket I finally pulled out the small square box. Fishing inside I pulled out a cigarette and lighter, setting the pack down next to me once I had lit up.

I sucked desperately on the tan tip allowing the nicotine to flow steadily through my system. I exhaled feeling the tension from my shoulders start to slowly dissipate.

I don't know how long I sat there. Watching the stars turn into a milky haze as their backdrop darkened. My mind turned over the past few weeks, not really paying that much attention.

I was surprised by the footsteps behind me. Filch usually left this part of the castle well alone at this time of night trusting the couples to have moved on by now. The footsteps stopped in the centre of the room. I waited for them to speak, or quite possibly leave.

It appeared they were waiting for me to make the first move.

I wasn't going to give them that satisfaction, staring out into the night with my back to them not giving the slightest hint I knew I was being watched.

We both waited. Neither eager to break the silence.

I was strangely comfortable with it, allowing the weird feeling of knowing companionship to wash over me.

Finally the silence became too much for them. A staged cough, followed shortly by an abrupt sigh.

"Can I bum a cigarette?"

The words rang in my ears. I didn't understand. I knew the meaning of each phrase but together with the sound it became word salad.

I would have known that voice anywhere I just didn't think I was ever going to hear it again. I scrambled around, not caring that my lighter was now on the long journey to the ground.

Green eyes locked with brown. I was frozen. Paralysed with disbelief. My curled up on the windowsill, my torso twisted so I could get a better view.

"Oh my god," I breathed, incredulity tarnishing the words.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. Some deep part of my mind had resigned itself to never seeing him again. It was taking a long time to convince it otherwise.

Hands deep in his pockets, he rocked slightly on his heals, a sheepish grin crossing his features, his hair still stuck in its eternal mess. His shoulders sat with a relaxed air I had never seen him wear before.

His eyes told a completely different story. Flickering with vacillation and self-doubt.

"It's over."

The words flow off his tongue with vague unfamiliarity. He doesn't seem to believe them himself.

I don't say anything, finally moving off the window sill completely. I catch myself against the wall as my knees give way slightly.

My head spinning rapidly.

We continue to stare at each other from across the room, Harry waiting patiently as I fumble for something to say.

"Do you -"I start.

"Not yet," Harry cuts across me.

I nod slowly, understanding. It was too soon. Words were not going to come.

"I just needed to see you," he states calmly. Harry stares out the window behind me, suddenly afraid to make eye contact.

"I thought maybe then I would believe it," his voice barely makes a whisper, the words floating to me afraid they would break.

"Do you?"

He chuckles sarcastically. "Not really... No."

I nod again. There was nothing to say which wasn't completely redundant. The silence starting to ring in my ears, so loud it hurt, begging for just a whisper to cut through.

I stare off to the left of Harry's shoulder, thoughts reeling through my mind. I couldn't look at him. He was alive, and a part of me didn't want to believe that. The dream would hurt too much when I awoke.

I didn't know where to start. 'How you doing,' was inconceivably superfluous.

Harry is having the same problem as me. I can feel his eyes searching the room, raking its contents for something to focus on. We couldn't look at each other. Not without -

"Why is this so hard?" Harry questions, intercepting my thoughts.

I chuckle wearily, sliding down to the floor in defeat. As I cross my legs and lean back against the wall I finally look up at Harry again.

"I don't know," I sigh.

Harry watches me silently, a wary glint in his eyes. I think he expects me to rant, to rave, to ramble a mile a minute. I can't. I don't have the energy. The past few weeks had been such a struggle, now I didn't have the strength for anything more than apathy.

Harry stares at me. His eyes boring into mine.

"I'm so -"

"Could we... not now, Harry," I cut across exhausted. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths as I feel tears sting the back of my eyes.

My eyes snap open again as I feel Harry take a seat next to me settling, his back against the wall. I roll my head around to look at him. His arm reaches up above him searching for the pack of cigarettes I'd left on the sill.

Opening the pack he gently perches one between his lips, his hand digging in his pocket for a lighter. He finally produces a silver Zippo, the flame dancing across his face as he brings it up to light. Wordlessly he hands me the lit cigarette before taking his own from the packet to light.

Silence washes over us again, the sheer discomfort we shared previously diminishing to be replaced with a sense of companionable familiarity.

I don't know where to start.

Sighing I stare down at the floor between us, the mere five centimetre gap seeming to forge further distance between us than being on opposite sides of the room. I shift uncomfortably on the spot suddenly feeling the need to speak. Words evade me. Slowly I take one last, long, desperate drag hoping to pull every last drop of nicotine into my body. Praying frantically for it to give me some sense of knowing.

I was so lost.

I stare at Harry's profile, still not quite able to believe what I was looking at. His eyes closed, lashes sweeping gently across his cheeks, glasses sliding down his nose, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if uncertain what to do. Finally he flicks his cigarette butt to the floor before grinding it out with his heel.

Taking a deep breath he turns, opening his eyes to look at me. Green eyes blaze into mine. I don't blink, determined not to be intimidated by the fire behind them. I know then, there are no words. Nothing either of us can say is going to make any of this easier.

His presence invades my senses, bombarding them with the familiar bittersweet sensations shooting tingles throughout my entire body.

I don't know who moved. Maybe we both did. His lips so soft against mine. His tongue tracing my mouth so gently, craving entrance. A moan parted my lips, his tongue succinctly sweeping my mouth, his tang bombarding my tastebuds.

Harry's hand delves into my hair pulling me closer. On reflex I grab at his shoulder feeling his muscle taught beneath the fabric of his shirt. I press myself against his chest revelling its familiar planes.

Needing to have him nearer I swing my leg around, settling down to straddle his lap. Gently I roll my hips against Harry, a moan grinding through his throat. I gasp slightly as a cool hand crawls beneath my shirt tracing light patterns against my stomach before gently caressing my breast. His palm kneading as his fingers deftly squeeze the nipple through the flimsy fabric of my bra.

As quickly as we started Harry tears his lips from mine pulling back to look up at me. Eyes startled wide. I watch him quietly as our breathing slows from its quick pants tyring to ignore his fingers twisting absently around the hem of my shirt.

"We need to talk," he breaths as he pushes me back away from him. I shift back slightly leaving a hand on his chest.

"I don't care," I whisper, leaning down to brush his lips with mine. "I just want to..." I cut off my own sentence, crushing Harry's lips beneath mine. I feel the reluctance along his lips, my tongue slowly savouring their taste as it begs for entrance.

Harry pulls back sharply, breaking the kiss. He sits back, his head against the wall, eyes averted.

"But I can't..."

I bite my bottom lip trying to disguise the sob I was about to let out. It didn't work.

Harry waits a beat before letting his eyes flick to me warily.

"Just because its over doesn't mean we automatically get the fairytale."

I hate that he's right. I hate the tears that spring to my eyes. I hate that I know how hard this will be. This is the one part of my life I've completely screwed up and can't blame anyone else for. This is the one part I want the most.

"Can't we just pretend?"

Harry doesn't answer as he stares at his hand against my mid-drift. I see his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows severely.

"I don't think I can," he whispers.

Shocked, I sit back slightly, moving to stand to give us the space we both so desperately need. His hands lock around my wrists like vices keeping me settled in his lap.

I feel all my frustrations boil around me as he sits in silence, refusing to look at me, his hands not allowing me to move.

"I've never felt so pathetic," I whisper, obvious he wasn't going to start. "A three-line note and a quick bang in the shower."

Harry finally looks up at me, apology written in his eyes, mouth open to voice the words. I shake my head slightly and hold my hand up as his grip loosens on me. I didn't want to hear it.

I needed to say this now or I never would.

"I couldn't come after you. Dumbledore's very good with promises." I chuckle slightly, devoid of any humour. "I moped, I worried, I practically mourned your fucking death..."

I take a breath losing my track of thought.

"Now you're back, none of that really matters I'd happily fall back into our 'shag-now-talk-never' holding pattern. Then I would at least know you were here and some part of me, even the most insignificant, was wanted. I would know that you needed something from me. I look at that..." I swallow determined not to let the tears spill.

"I never felt so pathetic."

A dark look crosses Harry's features before he slowly turns his head away from me, staring blankly into the dark of the room. Fixated to the spot I stare in silence, waiting, begging for a reply. I don't know what I want him to say. A syllable would be enough. I needed some kind of validation.

"Harry," I question softly trying to bring him out of his self-imposed daze.

His Adam's apple bobs before his head shakes slightly. So small it may have barely been classed as a shake.

One small inclination. Left and then right. He could have shook like a dog emerging from the ocean. Whatever. It still would have had the same effect.

Wordlessly I stand, turning my back to him. It was over.

Not just Voldemort, but whatever sham we had charading as a relationship. Everything between us was severed.

As far as he was concerned we had turned a new leaf. Blank page, start from scratch, none which comes before. All that crap. As far as he was concerned we had nothing.

Taking all the strength I could from one breath I spoke. Two words and they were possibly the hardest I have ever uttered in my life.

"Goodbye Harry."

Ignoring the tears prickling my eyelids I force my legs to move concentrating solely on the sound of my shoes as they clicked across the stone floor.

I jumped back. Two centimetres from my nose the door had swung closed the bang reverberating though out the room.

I stare at the door, eyes wide barely registering the cool mahogany through my shock.

I stand silent, staring at the hard wood in front of me. I could feel my vision blur with tears of frustration. He was so hot and cold.

Always indecisive.

"I can't let you leave." His words so soft I almost miss them, his voice strangely determined.

I wait patiently as he finds his words. I don't turn around. That would be too easy. I don't get how I can be standing here, worried about getting hurt. Frustrated with his emotional retardedness. I shouldn't be. Not when he just saved the world from an evil dictator less than twenty-four hours ago.

Yet somehow, making this right between us seemed to be the only thing on his mind as well.

"Harry," I state simply, hoping to prod him into saying something. I'm tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for him to speak. Tired of waiting for him to come back. Tired of waiting for him to make up his mind about what he wanted in life, about what he wanted from me.

"I slept with Hannah."

The words almost burst from him. Like he didn't really want to say them but he knew he had to. Maybe he thought hearing the news quickly would make it hurt less.

Shocked I turn; hoping, praying, begging that I hadn't heard correctly. That it was all one giant misunderstanding.

It wasn't.

I swallow back my tears, stubbornly refusing to let him see me cry over this.

"Why are you telling me this?"

My voice sounded so small, so scared. I'm falling apart. I don't know which way is up. Like my arm has just been torn from me.

"It was about a week after we, um," he pauses searching for the word. "Broke up."

He sounds so calm, so in control. His voice is tinged with apology and pity.

I don't want it.

"I was up in the Astronomy Tower. Hannah came because she had forgotten one of her books, and -"

"Jesus Harry! Just stop!"

Yelling. Good, that made me feel more normal. I didn't care about crying now. He knew what he had done. I let my tears flow freely.

"It doesn't matter. I don't need a blow by blow description."

Frustrated I pull on the end of my ponytail, twisting the ends around my fingers as I begin to pace, the constant motion settling me, allowing my brain to function on a level above hysterical. I still felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

Although I knew we were never really together, that it had happened when we were no longer fuck buddies I still felt horribly betrayed.

"Hermione." Desperation tinges his voice.

"Don't talk to me. Don't even _try_ to justify this."

Harry steps back slightly. He doesn't look contrite, he doesn't look ashamed, instead he looks bizarrely accepting. Like he knows how badly he screwed up. He was just waiting for his punishment, waiting for me to rant, scream and quite possibly throw things. Somehow his calm compliance settles me. Allowing me to think enough, to know that I would listen to his answer rationally, not make this a bigger deal than it already was.

"Why?" I question simply, quietly.

"Because I knew." Harry cocks his head to the side, looking at me gently as he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "That distance you put between us hurt me more than I had never imagined. And I knew. When we really got together; properly together; that would be it. No turning back. For the rest of my life it would be just you."

He pauses slightly mulling over his next words. "Forever is a scary thing when your seventeen."

I stare blankly at him, my mouth hanging open at a rather unattractive angle. I was completely speechless. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this conversation.

"Hermione?" his voice soft, tentative and questioning.

"I don't know..." I feel my bottom lip start to tremble. I didn't want to cry again. I was not going to cry. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything," Harry pleads desperately. "Smack me upside the head. Anything. I just can't handle silence from you."

Sighing I can't help wishing to be eleven again. Things were so simple back then.

"We've made complete bollocks of this, haven't we?"

Harry snorts. "To put it mildly."

We allow the silence to wash over us, each comfortable with our own thoughts, relaxed by the brief moment of levity.

For once in my life I'm completely lost. I have no idea what to think, no idea what to say. I felt like I was on a gigantic emotional roller coaster.

"Harry," I state carefully, my voice sounding foreign. "I want this. I want you. It just seems that whenever we get close another brick wall comes slamming between us."

I stare at Harry, waiting for him to speak, answer me, offer some relict of comfort. To tell me no matter what it will work. He doesn't, instead stares over my shoulder, a blank mask covering his face.

"You're never going to tell me are you?" I whisper feeling the lump start to choke the back of my throat again.

Harry finally looks up at me. His eyes burning with intensity. He doesn't have to say anything. That moment, I just know.

Not yet. He would, but not yet.

His lips still couldn't wrap themselves around those three tiny words, eight simple letters. He had everything but voiced them. I'd have to be daft not to know how he felt. Nevertheless, the small, largely, naggingly insecure part of me I was constantly trying to suppress needed that sentence. Needed the words from his lips, like they would make the already obvious fact somehow more real. I told him what seemed a lifetime ago that he didn't have to say anything, now I'm desperate for those words to caress his tongue.

I sigh. It wasn't going to do well to dwell on this. I knew his emotional baggage. Constantly keeping a calculated distance from friends, never getting overly close, in case they suddenly ended up dead.

Too bad for me and Ron... we had already crossed that line before things got really messy.

Harry opens his mouth to speak before I cut him off. I don't want to hear the apology. That would be like twisting the knife further into the wound.

"Its okay, Harry. I know."

Sighing Harry pulls himself onto the window sill, watching me as I stare blankly back at him. We almost dare each other to make the first move, to speak first. A tired look of frustration crosses Harry's face as he runs a weary hand through his hair.

I can't imagine he had much of a chance to sleep, it can't have been that long since the event. He must have just been dying to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week.

Sighing, simply because there was nothing more I wanted to say, I cross the room in quick strides before pulling myself up onto the sill next to him. Barely lifting his head Harry glances at me through the corners of his eyes.

"It's over," I state simply, taking his hand in mine.

From that moment all the screaming, yelling, crying, using, hurt, everything, it was all over. Everything we had done to each other, had done to ourselves was over. I can't say it never happened because we would never be here if it didn't. I just wasn't going to dwell on it anymore.

Harry smiled slightly as he laced his fingers more securely in mine, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

"It's over," he echoes. This time I think he really does believe.

_It's so good to be in love again._


End file.
